Trial of Flames
by SerenLyall
Summary: When James sends Magnus a very rare abnormal found in an ancient Vampire Outpost, she must take the young creature into the wilderness to bring him to his natural habitat. However, there are others who have different plans for the young creature.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. All rights and characters belong to the awesome people who came up with the idea for one of the best TV shows in the world. I promise to return them all after I have finished sending them on crazy adventures!

**Rating: **Teen. Rated Teen for violence (including graphic descriptions, abuse, language, and intense scenes (hope I can do them justice)

**Category:** Adventure/Angst

**Summary:** When James sends Magnus a very rare abnormal found in an ancient Vampire Outpost, she must take the young creature into the wilderness to bring him to his natural habitat. However, there are others who have different plans for the young creature.

**Timeframe:** Nothing in the TV series. Really late 1800's or really early 1900's.

**A/N:** Ok...this is my first Sanctuary fanfic. Reviews and suggestions are much beloved, so please feel free to click the button.

Just to let all readers know, I am not very well versed in this time period, so if I write anybody sees anything terribly wrong with it, I beg of you _PLEASE_ review or PM me so that I can get it fixed.

I want to take this time to say that I _have_ researched the time period and the people extensively, but I am afraid that there will still be major mess ups. So please, no flames or sulfur or acid thrown my way. I have tried, I promise.

**A/N2**: And now for the A/N pertaining to _this _section (aka the Prologue). This is in the perspective of a Shoshone elder telling a story to the youngsters of the tribe. I know it's short (this whole section is longer than the actual Prologue), and I apologize for that. I promise that none of the other chapters, etc. will be as short as this one is.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I would love it if you would tell me what you think.

**Trial of Fire**

Prologue

"Listen, children of the Plains, younglings of the New Age. For I have a story to tell you.

On nights, very much like this one, when the air has a sharp nip to it and the wind keens mournfully, the horses all shift, a wild gleam echoing through their eyes. The whispers of ages past and gone and the tingling of power lost fills the land, a light fog rising from the ground. For even the stones themselves remember the day that the Queen of the Undying came to us, the day that the Mare of Exthan brought us to her…"


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, so here's chapter 1. Set approximately 1902 (give or take a few years). I hope you all enjoy it, and would love feedback (good or bad, just please no spamming or acid dumped on my head. I have a feeling that that would hurt).

Oh, and a chocolate chip cookie goes to LittlestLilyPotter, who helped me edit and organize and get everything to flow better. It wouldn't be the same without her ;)

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Chapter 1

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Helen Magnus rode through the streets of San Francisco, her eyes fixed on the masts that were barely visible through the openings in the streets. Her horse's hooves clattered against the cobblestone streets, expertly avoiding the masses of people that crowded the narrow spaces, weaving in and out of the carriages that shuffled down the road slowly.

With a twitch of her reins, Magnus turned her mount to the side, urging the mare down a side street. She kicked the buckskin into a trot, hoping to make up for time lost in the crushing business of the main thoroughfare.

The street opened, the two emerging onto the docks. The tall, proud ships rose and fell with the gentle swells of the ocean, pulling at their moorings. Sailors rushed to and fro, carrying rope and crates, filling the wharf with bustling activity.

Magnus dismounted, tying her mare to a hitching rail before losing herself in the crowd of people. As she neared the center of the docks, the crowd became more and more dense; fewer sailors busying themselves with tasks, and more citizens of the city here to greet the newly arrived ship.

Helen quickly found her way to the front of the crowd, standing slightly off to the side as she watched the passengers disembark from the long passenger ship, the twin masts throwing shadows over the seething masses of people waiting to welcome loved ones or to collect belongings.

The gang plank cleared, and Helen sprang into action immediately. On quick, light feet, she strode up the wooden ramp that had been attached to the ship, slipping through the narrow opening at the top. She found herself on the deck, a few stragglers still rushing around, finding and collecting belongings and hurrying to disembark.

Magnus reached into the satchel that had been slung over her shoulder, pulling out the telegram that she had stored there. She glanced at it yet again, and her feet subconsciously began to carry her toward the aft of the deck, toward the Captain's cabin.

A shadow fell across her, and she looked up, meeting the eyes of a large, burly sailor.

"What do you think you're doing, miss?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You're gonna have to get off the ship now." His tone turned threatening as he took a step closer. "The Cap'n doesn't abide with stowaways."

"I am not a stowaway," Helen retorted crisply. "In fact, it was your Captain that invited me onto the ship."

"And why would he do a thing like that?" the sailor asked, his voice still low and threatening, although Magnus could hear a hint of confusion and curiosity in his tone.

"That is for me to know, not you," Magnus told him. "Now, if you would be so kind?" she asked politely yet pointedly.

The sailor's eyes narrowed, and he said, "Then I suppose you won't mind if I escort you to the Captain's cabin?"

"Of course not," Helen answered amiably, smiling at the large man slightly. "Thank you."

A look of slight startlement crossed the man's face, as if he was genuinely taken aback by the slightly odd woman's response. But he corrected himself, turning and leading her farther back into the ship.

The two stopped in front of a rather small, plain, wooden door. The sailor raised one large hand and knocked twice.

"Enter," came a voice from inside. Once again, the sailor seemed slightly surprised, this time more likely from the fact that the Captain was even in his cabin, and opened the door.

"Sir? A woman here says she's come to see you."

"Good, let her in Clarks."

The sailor stepped aside, examining the woman as she passed him. She was rather tall for a woman, with dark brown locks falling to her shoulder blades. Her hair was slightly curled, and her eyes were a piercing blue. He didn't know much of this woman, but he had the feeling that you wouldn't want to get on the bad side of her.

The door closed behind her, and Clarks turned to return to his duties.

"Dr. Helen Magnus, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Robert Montague," said a small, yet sturdily built man, turning from where he had been standing at his desk. He dropped the pen he had been clutching, holding out his hand to shake Helen's. He pretended not to notice the small flicker of emotion behind her carefully veiled eyes, smiling warmly at her.

She took the offered hand, returning the smile. "I received your message," she told him. "It was rather vague," she added.

Robert nodded. "Sorry about that," he replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. "It had to be."

"So what exactly is going on?" she asked him.

Robert didn't answer, instead striding through his small cabin and bending to unlock a chest. The lock fell to the ground with a small thud, and the captain grimaced. He knelt, lifting the lid to the chest, the hinges protesting slightly. He reached inside, both his hands disappearing for a moment, before reemerging with his hands cupped around something small and circular.

"This," he finally replied, returning to stand in front of Helen. He nodded to her, indicating for her to take what he was holding.

She stretched out her hand, watching the man carefully all the while.

"It won't bite," he assured her. "It's fast asleep."

He carefully placed the small object in Helen's hands, taking a step back so he could watch the woman's face.

She looked down, examining the small ball that the ship's captain had given her.

Except, it wasn't a ball, she realized. She gasped as her mind finally comprehended what it was she was holding.

The small dragon was curled into a tiny ball, its body coiled around on itself, compacting the tiny shape into a circle. Its head rested on the top of the coils, tiny puffs of smoke issuing from its nostrils at each exhale. Its scales gleamed dull orange red, the edges flickering with an inner heat.

Helen looked up at Montague, her eyes narrowed. "Where did you find this?" she asked.

The man shrugged. "A man gave it to me, along with a letter, telling me to send you the telegraph," he answered.

Helen shifted the small dragon, cradling it against her stomach as she supported it with one arm. Then, with her other hand, she stroked the tiny creature's head. A small, prickling tingle raced through her fingers, a familiar sort of buzz echoing through her mind, confirming her suspicions; it had vampire blood.

"May I see the letter, please?" she asked, stretching out her hand. The captain nodded, opening his desk and taking out a thin envelope with no address and sealed shut. He handed the letter to Magnus, who promptly opened it one handed.

She shook out the folds of the paper, holding it up to the light so she could read it better.

_Dear Helen,_

_I truly hope this letter finds you well. However, as I'm sure you have inferred, there are much more pressing matters at hand than asking about your welfare._

_While investigating a trail left by a rare abnormal, the name eludes me for the moment, I stumbled across an ancient vampire outpost in the Antarctic. It was a simple chamber with small containment hatches along the walls. Inside of them, frozen in a clear, crystalline cryogenic material, were rare species of abnormals, which I am assuming were experiments._

_In the center was a large, throne-like chair. Upon further examination, it appeared that it was the control center for the entire outpost. As I was attempting to determine how it worked, I accidentally triggered a release. One of the chambers opened, releasing what appeared to be an infant dragon._

_It was only awake for a few moments before it, once again, went into hibernation. I can only assume that this was to preserve its life, since it appears that it has had no nourishment for thousands of years, and it awoke to a landscape of ice, snow, and freezing water._

_On my return to Europe, I decided that it would be best to send this infant to the United States. For, as I am sure you remember, we found references to ancient Dragon colonies in North America in the old Vampire texts._

_However, I suggest that you bring the dragonlet to his Roost soon, for fear that he will wake, sensing food and water nearby._

_With love,_

_James Watson_

Magnus folded the letter up again, stowing it in her satchel alongside the telegram.

"Thank you," she said, nodding to Robert.

He nodded in return, then suddenly said, "Hold on a minute. I have something else you might find handy." He returned to the trunk, bending over and retrieving a small bag. "The man that gave me the letter and the beast also gave me this. Said it was filled with 'phoenix down', whatever that's supposed to mean. He also said you'd understand what it was for."

Helen nodded, smiling and accepting the fire proof bag from the captain. "Yes, and thank you again," she said. She slid the small, snoozing dragon into the bag, closing it and stowing in in the main compartment of her knapsack.

"And now, I must depart," Magnus said. "Thank you," she finished. Robert nodded, opening the door for her.

When Helen returned to the deck, there were no longer any passengers milling around. The only movement on the deck were the sailors finishing their landing tasks and preparing to depart the ship for their own free time. She saw Clarks watching her with interested eyes, but she decided to ignore it, assuming that it was merely the circumstances of their meeting.

Magnus made her way to the gangplank, descending and returning back to solid ground. Her left hand momentarily rested on the bag hanging by her waist, and she quickly began to cross the wharves toward where she had secured her mare.

With quick, efficient tugs, Magnus untied the reins and mounted her horse, turning her head and kicking her into a fast walk, then into a trot.

Magnus took a deep breath drawing on her memories of the time she and James had found the two ancient vampire logs, which had been filled with their own observations and experiments of the unnatural creatures of the world. Two places had been marked on a map in the ancient vampire texts, denoting where ancient Dragon Roosts were located in the continent that would be come to be called North America. She didn't know if any other dragons had survived this long, but even if they did not, what better place for a dragonlet to grow. It would also be the place it would most likely survive.

A single dragon had been inked curling around a lone mountain onto the ancient paper, smoke curling from its nostrils. This had been in the northern portion of the map, and beside it had been the symbols that translated to 'Now Extinct'.

Below that figure, and to the south and east, was another dragon, this one bigger and sitting on a nest with three dragon eggs nestled inside. Its neck had been intertwined throughout a mountain range, fire licking its jaws.

This would be the place Helen would strike for. It was located in the northwestern state of Wyoming, and, if she was correct, it was in the same place as the newly created Yellowstone National Park. That could complicate things, but she would find a way around it all. She had to.

She drew rein, her mare coming to a prancing stop outside of a long row of houses that were connected together, single flights of stairs leading up to the individual doors. Brass knockers gleamed in the waning sunlight, the whitewashed walls making the street look brighter than in was.

Helen dismounted, tying her mare to the railing, before hurrying up the steps, opening the door. The knapsack was slung over one shoulder, the heavy bundle resting against her left hip. She could feel the small dragon's deep, slumbering breathing; she just hoped that he stayed like that long enough for her to get him to the Dragon Roost.

"Helen?" a young, blonde woman asked, walking out of the kitchen accompanied by the sounds of rustling skirts. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry Mary," Helen replied, "But I have to leave. I'm not going to be able to carry all of my belongings with me, but you're welcome to move what I leave behind in the attic or into storage."

"How long are you going to be gone for?" the young, petite woman asked, following her mentor up a staircase and into the room she had given Magnus temporary use of.

"I'm not sure," Helen answered, grabbing saddlebags and beginning to fill them. "It will likely be a while before I am able to return, however." She finished filling the bags with her necessities, and returned to kitchen with due haste.

"Magnus, what's going on?" Mary asked plaintively as she moved to help Helen pack food and water.

Helen stopped and turned to look at her young student. She sighed, then said, "James Watson, a very old friend of mine, discovered a rare breed of abnormal. He sent it to me, and I have to return it to its natural habitat. If I don't, none of us will be able to contain it. And, I hate to sound cliché, but it could cause the destruction of this entire continent if it isn't settled in the proper location."

And with that, Helen disappeared into her room for the last time, this time to change into travel clothing. When she emerged, she was wearing pants well suited for riding, a dark brown jacket over a beige shirt, and boots. Her hair was tied up into a knot at the base of her neck, the hood of her jacket hanging down her back.

"Magnus!" Mary called out as Helen reached for the door handle, her saddle bags slung over one arm. "Just be careful," she begged, looking up at her mentor, her helper, her surrogate mother, with pleading in her eyes.

"As always," Helen said, giving the young woman a swift, yet loving hug. "Tell Thomas I plan on returning, at the latest, by next spring, once the passes clear?" Mary nodded, fingering the wedding ring on her finger.

"Of course. We will be awaiting your return. Hopefully you can tell us more of what's going on."

"Perhaps," Magnus responded, laying a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Take care."

And with that, Helen pulled open the door, exiting the darkened hallway and back into the sunlight filled world.

She untethered her mare, mounting, and nudging her into a trot. By the time they were out of the city and entering the unfenced and open countryside, Magnus had urged her steed into a fast canter, her hooves flying over the grassy earth.

The sky was a bright, clean blue, the grass around her whispering slightly in the rustling breeze, the birds chirping and singing. Her senses were hyper aware, noting everything going on around her.

But the thing she didn't notice was the large, shadowed man following her discreetly.

In the pouch still resting against her thigh, Helen could feel the dragon stir, sensing the clean, fresh air around it and the plentiful prey.

Her time was running out before she had even started the clock.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary nor Helen Magnus or Nikola Tesla are mine - I am merely taking the ideas of others. All other characters are figments of my own imagination, although Elko, Nevada, is a real place. I state here and now that none of these occurrences are real or have ever happened. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N:** It's been over a month. Dang. I'm really, really sorry guys :/ A bunch of stuff has happened since I started this story, and life and other stuff that I was writing got in the way of my working on this. All I can say is, I'm terribly sorry to everyone, and promise you that it will never again take this long to get a chapter posted (disregarding extenuating circumstances). Forgive me, please, and I hope that this chapter suffices as a decent apology.

I'm honestly not entirely sure what to think of this chapter. I'm halfway between really liking it and absolutely _disliking_ it for some reason. So please, please, please, read and help me out if you think there's anything that can be improved upon. Read, but please enjoy, as well as accept my heartfelt apology :)

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Chapter 2

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The sun was well past its zenith, the sundial in front of Town Hall proclaiming that it was nearing five o'clock. The air was thick and heavy, unusually hot for mid-September, and the sky was a rich, cloudless blue. Elko, a small town in the heartland of Nevada, seemed to be sleeping, its inhabitants moving sluggishly in the heat as the sun continued to beat down mercilessly.

16 year old Daniel Johnson sat on the railing in front of the town's General Store, staring up at the peerless sky as he waited for his mother to finish with her shopping. He would much rather be out on the range checking on the herds, but his father, Eli Johnson, had asked him to accompany his mother into town for the day. Sulkily, Dan had complied, and so here he was, observing the slow, boring life of town folk.

The sound of a horse's slow, staggering tread brought Dan's attention to the far end of Main Street. A buckskin was plodding down the street slowly, her gait faltering and her head hanging low in exhaustion. Atop the mare's back rode a woman, her dark hair hanging around her face in straggled wisps, her clothes covered in dust and grime.

It was as if all of the woman's remaining strength suddenly vanished, for she slid off of her mare's back, striking the ground with a thump that raised a cloud of dust. The mare stopped, turning her head wearily to examine her fallen rider who lay unmoving in the middle of the street.

Dan jumped off of the railing, running down the street and toward the woman. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Luke Terpin disentangle himself from his wife's arm, also hurrying to see to the unconscious woman.

Luke knelt by the stranger's side, kneeling over so he could ensure that she was breathing. Dan, who had arrived shortly after the older man, snagged the buckskin's reins, pulling the mare away from her mistress so they wouldn't run the risk of the horse accidentally treading on anyone's fingers.

"Someone go for Dr. Horace," Luke called out, looking around urgently. Emily, the mayor's daughter, ran off toward the small clinic on the edge of town, disappearing into the haze.

"Is she alive?" Dan asked, peering around the mare's nose to get a better look at the stranger.

"For now," Luke replied, meeting the younger lad's gaze.

The town doctor, Dr. Horace, came up the road at a dead run, his doctor's bag clutched in his right hand, his jet black hair flopping over his eyes and slick with sweat. Luke stood and moved to intercept the doctor and explain what had happened.

The knapsack that was slung over the stranger's shoulder suddenly moved, a strange squeaking issuing out of the folds of cloth. The sound of cloth rustling drew Daniel's attention, and he was just in time to see a small head emerge over the woman's shoulder, the scales that covered its head gleaming in the sun. Its fire red eye glittered balefully as it regarded the shocked boy, its pupil slanted vertically like a cat's. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the head vanished, burrowing into the dark folds of the woman's coat.

Dr. Horace hurried to the woman's side, kneeling down and checking her pulse.

"It's weak, but steady," he announced. "She doesn't appear to be suffering from any major injuries, so let's get her to the clinic. Daniel?" Dr. Horace asked, looking up and addressing the lad, "If you could help us get her on her mount, please?"

Dan nodded, his mind still whirling with the sight he had just seen. He almost believed that what he had seen had merely been a figment of his imagination; but his father had trained him differently. Deep down inside, Daniel Johnson knew what he had seen, and he now knew exactly why his father had been asking him to go into town so often the last week.

* * *

><p>Helen stirred, her eyes flickering uneasily as she attempted to pull free of the tangling spider webs of sleep. Slowly, methodically, she wrenched herself free, finally managing to force her eyes open.<p>

She blinked, taking in her surroundings carefully. She was lying in a soft bed standing along the left hand wall of a small room, covered in white sheets and a patchwork quilt. Two windows in the wall beside her allowed soft sunbeams to filter in through the lacey curtains, which were rippling gently in the breeze that wafted through the open panes. On the opposite side of the room she could only just make out a dresser and washstand, while a desk stood to her immediate right.

She could feel the strange sensation of a needle entering her hand and, when she looked down to examine what it was, Helen found that she had been attached to an IV.

The door leading into the room opened quietly and Magnus could hear someone walking in on soft feet. She immediately closed her eyes most of the way, leaving them open just enough to be able to see what was happening around her through her lashes.

A young woman with red hair pulled back into a braid entered the room, her arms full of Helen's clothes, which, Magnus noticed, had been cleaned and carefully folded. The young woman carefully placed them on the top of the dresser before moving to look down at Helen. She smiled down at the older woman.

"I can tell you're awake," she said softly. Helen's eyes opened fully and she elected to sit up, propping her back against the headboard. The red haired woman smiled at Helen, her own eyes twinkling. "My name is Annabelle Horace, the daughter of the doctor. How are you feeling?"

"Well rested," Helen answered frankly, then blushed slightly. "I'm terribly sorry, where have my manners gone? My name is Helen Magnus," she said, offering a hand to shake Annabelle's. The girl took it, her smile growing.

"You're not from the Americas," she commented.

"No," Helen answered matter-of-factly, although she did not elaborate.

"My father will want to know that you are awake; you've been asleep for two full days," Annabelle told Magnus, and then turned to leave.

_Two days?_ Helen thought, something akin to panic flaring in her chest. _Damn it_.

She leapt out of the bed, as soon as Annabelle had disappeared out the door, pulling the IV out of her hand, her eyes scanning the small room for any sign of her bag. She spotted it lying on the desk, looking rather flat and empty. Firmly reining in her panic, Helen moved closer to the desk and picked up the knapsack. It was, indeed, unoccupied.

"Damn," she whispered, turning in a circle.

An odd crooning sound emanated from between the sheets of the bed Helen had only just vacated. Startled, Magnus moved over to the mattress and pulled back the coverings. The small dragonlet stared up at her accusingly, as if asking her why she had abandoned the comfortable warmth. It flicked its tail, the tip of it coming to rest against Helen's hand, which was hovering over the blankets.

A knock sounded at the door and, for the first time, Helen realized that she was wearing only a thin cotton dressing gown. She also noticed that the dragonlet was in plain sight, and she did not want anyone to know about the young creature.

She climbed back under the covers, pulling the blankets up to cover her lap as well as the young dragon.

"Enter," she called out, and the door opened a second time.

An older man walked in, his hair jet black and ruffled, his eyes dancing with an inner light. He entered the room, leaving the door open, and walked to her bedside, taking the chair that stood underneath the desk. Helen grinned wryly, strongly reminded of a certain vampire.

"Dr. Albert Horace," he said, smiling warmly and shaking Helen's hand. "You are?"

"Dr. Helen Magnus," Helen supplied. She duly noted the other man's slight surprise at her title, but she discarded the small tidbit of information almost immediately, considering it trivial and unimportant.

"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Magnus," Dr. Horace said, smiling once again.

"If I might ask, where am I exactly?" Magnus asked.

"Currently, you are in the medical clinic in a small town called Elko, which is in Nevada. You rode into town two days ago and collapsed from your horse, severely dehydrated and exhausted. You've slept for forty-six hours straight now." Here, Albert paused, and Helen noticed that he was fiddling his fingers as if he was nervous. "Might I ask why exactly you were running from something?"

Helen smiled, although there was no mirth in the expression. "I'm not running from anything, or anyone," she told the other man. "Actually, I have a patient that is in dire need of my attention."

"You'll do them no good if you push yourself to the point of fatigue."

"I know that," Magnus replied, her tone harsher than she had meant for it to be. "Forgive me, please," she said regretfully. "I am not quite myself." Beside her, Helen could feel the stirring of the dragonlet against her leg as he shifted position, sighing as he curled himself into a tighter ball.

Dr. Horace's face dissolved into a sympathetic and understanding look. "I am sorry for pushing you," he said calmly, standing. "I shall let you rest. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Helen threw the blankets back, breathing a sigh of relief as the smothering covers were moved off of her legs. She stood as well, and crossed to the dresser where Annabelle had placed her clothes. Within a few moments, Helen was once again fully dressed and was attempting to untangle the knots in her hair using the brush she had found in one of the drawers.

After another five long, painful moments, Magnus was finally able to get her hair into a reasonably cooperative state, and put it up into a simple, yet elegant braid.

Taking the knapsack from the dresser, she gently urged the young dragonlet into the carrier. It merely looked at her as it refused to comply, blinking sleepily as its tail twitched back and forth, regarding her as if she were some sort of lowlife.

Helen growled in frustration, and attempted to pick the young creature up and deposit it into the bag. It promptly snapped at her fingers, its teeth clicking on thin air mere centimeters from her fingertips.

Helen sighed and sat on the bed carefully, looking down at her young charge.

"At least you're obviously not too keen on ravaging the countryside at the moment," she murmured, thankful for that fact. She looked down at the small creature, and said, "I'm trying to get you to your home. Won't you cooperate?" The dragonlet ruffled his wings smugly, clicking his teeth and growling softly. A puff of smoke curled from his nostrils, twining through the air and then dissipating.

And yet, Helen would have almost sworn that she had read something in the curling tendrils of gray smoke: I know.

A second curling of smoke followed, and once again, Magnus would have sworn that something had been written there. Why else do you think I haven't left you yet?

Helen's eyebrows arched in amazement, a small flickering flame of hope sparking deep inside of her. "So you haven't left and gone to ravage the countryside because you can sense I'm taking you home?" she asked the young creature dubiously.

The dragonlet eyed her contentedly, clicking his teeth together and curling his tail into a tight knot.

"Thank you," Helen said to the dragon, still a tad shocked. "Now, will you please get into the bag so that we can depart?" Helen asked.

The dragon huffed, but complied, leaping into the darkened shadows of the knapsack and curling up. Surprised once again, Helen lifted the back, fastening the flap, and swinging it over her shoulder.

She then exited the room in which she had been staying, and found herself in a long hallway. She glanced both ways before choosing to turn to the left, seeing only a dead end to her right. At the end of the corridor, she found a staircase and, descending it, she walked into the entrance hall of the clinic.

A woman older than Annabelle, yet looking stunningly similar, was only just bustling out of the kitchen, which was connected to the hallway leading out of the entrance hall.

"Good heavens, what are you doing out of bed?" she exclaimed, rushing forward.

"I am terribly sorry, but I must be on my way. How much do I owe you and your husband for everything?"

"Not so quickly," the woman told Magnus sternly. "You at least have to eat a decent meal before you go gallivanting off to wherever it is you were going. Come in and sit down; I was just about to call Albert and Annabelle to come and eat as it was. I'm Alice, by the way," she added absentmindedly as she hurried past Helen to go find her husband and child.

Slightly taken aback, Magnus glanced around the foyer. She knew that it was logical for her to stay and eat, and yet she still felt the pressing urge to hurry and depart from this place. She also felt slightly uncomfortable here, feeling almost as if these people were too kind, and Helen Magnus had come to be wary of anyone who was overly generous; they usually wanted something more than mere money in return.

Alice was back, Annabelle following, and when she saw Helen still standing in the entrance, took her firmly by the elbow and directed her into the kitchen and into a chair at the square table. Annabelle filled the space opposite her a moment later, and Alice sat to her left. A few moments passed, and then Albert Horace joined them as well, taking the final place at the table.

_Perhaps it is merely that I am used to being the one giving the instructions, not being the patient_ Helen mused as the family all bowed their heads to say grace. Helen followed suit, closing her eyes respectfully as Albert gave thanks for the food.

"Ms. Magnus, I'm not sure that you should be leaving quite yet," Albert said as he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes. "You only just awoke after sleeping for two days; you should stay and rest for at least another twenty-four hours."

Magnus' smile was tightlipped as she said, "I truly do have to leave. As I told you earlier, there is a patient that I must attend to, and it is imperative that I arrive at their home as quickly as I can. I can't afford to waste another day here."

"But-" Annabelle was cut off by her father.

"I see," he replied, eyeing Helen warily. She guessed that he believed there was something else going on, but she did not feel inclined to tell him the full story. And besides, her words were near enough to the truth that she harbored no guilt in telling him what she had. "If you are determined to leave us then, I suppose you would like to know where your horse is being kept."

"That would be most appreciated," Helen answered, thankful that he had stopped attempting to keep her there.

"There is a small pasture attached to the side of the woodshed out back. You can find your tack in the shed, and your mare is out in the pasture," Albert told her. "Everything that was in your saddlebags should still be there," he added, smiling at her for the first time during the meal.

"Thank you," Helen said sincerely, then asked, "How much do I owe you for your services?"

"Nothing; you were a traveller in need, so we helped. Besides, all we did was allow you to sleep in a bed for a couple of days," Albert said, continuing to smile.

"That isn't all that you did," Helen said, but sighed, electing to not argue with the man. She knew how it felt to be in his place, and she felt as if she would have said the same thing. Instead, Helen decided to leave payment in the woodshed where he, or one of his family members, would find it.

"Thank you very much for dinner," Magnus said, gracing Alice with a delicate smile as she finished the last bite of her meal.

"But you hardly ate anything!" protested the woman. In fact, Magnus had eaten a full plate of food which, for her, was quite a lot. She realized, however, that it would look like hardly anything to most people, especially for someone who had just spent the last two days fast asleep.

"I assure you, I am quite satisfied," Helen assured Alice. "Would you like me to stay and help clean up at least?"

"No dear, that's fine. If you're _sure_ you got enough to eat."

"I'm positive," Helen said firmly.

"I can show you where your horse is, if you like," Annabelle said, getting to her feet. She glanced at her father, who nodded his head slightly.

"That would be very kind of you," Helen said with a smile, standing as well.

She followed Annabelle out of the house and around the edge of the building. As she had been told, a woodshed stood not far away, the roof slanted and shingled. Attached to it was the pasture. Two horses were grazing in the enclosure, their coats gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Helen whistled, and one of the two horses lifted its head and whinnied shrilly before trotting over to the fence. Magnus approached the wooden slats that made up the rails, and gently caressed her mare's nose.

"Here's your tack," Annabelle said, lifting a saddle and bridle onto the fence beside Magnus. Helen looked at the girl quickly, not even having heard her leave and enter the woodshed.

"Thank you," she said, climbing the fence gracefully and dropping to the ground on the other side. She quickly began to saddle the buckskin, who stood patiently at ease.

"We don't get many visitors here," Annabelle said, leaning against the railing and watching as Magnus worked. "Those that we do get are usually ranchers from the surrounding area. We hardly ever get foreigners like you. Oh, I'm sorry," she added quickly, suddenly realizing how that must have sounded. "It's just…if my father came across as, I don't know, a little suspicious, don't hold it against him. I bet it's just that he's never met anyone quite like you before. I mean, you are quite the enigma."

"So I'm told," Helen said sardonically, which startled a chuckled out of the younger girl.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm glad to have met you, and I wish you luck on your journey, wherever it is to," Annabelle said, opening the gate to allow Helen, who was now mounted, out of the pasture.

"I am glad to have met you and your family as well, and I quite understand your father's feelings." Annabelle was startled slightly by the intensity and seriousness of the woman's tone. "Thank you for all that you have done, and if you would please, pass my thanks on to your mother and father as well. I also ask that you give your father this for me," Magnus added, holding out a wad of dollar bills.

Annabelle's face was slightly startled as she accepted the bills.

"You didn't have to do this you know," she said weakly.

"Perhaps not, but I know what it means to be a doctor, and I also know how difficult it is to get the money needed to continue your practices, especially in a small town like this. So give that to him, if you would, please."

"Yes, of course. And thank you," Annabelle said sincerely.

"Of course. Farewell," Helen said, smiling one final time at the girl, and nudging her mare into a trot.

Annabelle watched until the stranger was out of sight, then reentered the house to find her father, a hundred questions circling around in her mind, all of them brought by the departure of the strange woman.

* * *

><p>Daniel paced back and forth in the barn, biting his lip as he thought. His father had returned from counting the herds the night before, and ever since his homecoming, Dan had fought with himself about whether or not to tell his Pa about what had happened in town two days before.<p>

On the one hand, his father had asked him to report anything odd Dan ever saw while out and about, running errands or while out on the range watching the herds. But on the other hand, Daniel wasn't entirely sure that his father would want to hear about anything in town, as well as the fact that he still wasn't entirely sure of what he had seen. His brief moment of clairvoyance had soon been clouded by doubt and worry.

"Daniel?" a deep voice called out from the door to the barn. "I have hardly seen you at all." A large man with a fuzzy beard walked through the large doors and into the shaded building, doffing his hat as he left the sunny outside.

"Pa," Dan said with a grin, although deep inside of him, a battle still raged.

"What's wrong?" Eli asked, sensing something amiss in his eldest son.

Daniel hesitated for just one more second, then plunged forward. "I saw something in town the other day."

"What do you mean by something?" Eli asked, his tone suddenly very serious.

"Something as in…something strange; something unusual. It was a woman; she came riding in and collapsed in the middle of the street. When I went to grab her horse, I saw an animal. All I saw was its eye, but it was something like I had never seen before. The iris was bright red, and the pupil was like a cat's." Dan trailed off, biting his lip.

"Where is the woman now?" Eli asked sharply, his eyes flashing.

"Last I knew she was still at Dr. Horace's," Daniel said, surprised by his father's harsh tone.

"Let's hope she's still there. If not, then I will need you to go somewhere for me."

"Anywhere, Pa," Dan told his father.

"Good. Saddle up, and pack for a trip. If she isn't at the clinic, you'll need to ride out as soon as possible."


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary For All is not mine. It never is, and it never shall be...which is probably a good thing. It's in good hands just where it is (excepting SyFy, that is...O.o")

**A/N:** well now, this is 6 days late! *bangs head against the wall* Sorry everyone! (Thankfully it wasn't a **month** and six days late, this time around :P.) As usual with my writings, I was writing along, and realized that what I had _originally_ planned this chapter to be, would have to be _next_ chapter. So, I'm sorry guys, but there's not going to be a whole lot of current plot. Necessary, but not obviously so...yet. Also, I'm sorry if the beginning is a bit confusing - because there's a lot of travelling, I've been having to jump a couple of weeks each chapter, and this was the best way I could figure out to introduce this next set of events. So, like I said, I'm sorry if it's a tad confusing at first. It'll all make sense before the end of the chapter, I promise.

Oh, about the page breaks...I've finally found my happy medium (I think) for page breaks. In case you're wondering, M-Magnus, W-Will, K-Kate, H-Henry. Sorry, but no Biggie :/. It only feels right with 4 initials, so I had to cut one of them out. DON'T EAT ME FOR IT!

Read, review (please?) but most importantly, I hope you enjoy Chapter 3! :D

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Chapter 3

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Something wet and cold plummeted downwards, splashing as it hit the unconscious form lying on the ground. As it ran down the woman's cheek, a vibrant red liquid mixed with the simple water, transforming it into a crimson tear. A second drop splashed down from the laden tree fronds high above her head, quivering on her nose for a second before cutting an arc through the grime on the other side of her face.

A crooning sound filled the silent air, the sound unearthly as it wavered, jumping octaves as it grew in intensity. A small creature crouched on the woman's chest, nudging her chin incessantly as it continued its distressed warble.

The woman's eyes flickered open for a split second, snapping them shut as the light struck her dilated pupils. Seeing the crystal blue of her eyes, the dragonlet ceased its prodding and trilling, electing to merely lower its head so its chin rested on hers. When her eyes remained tightly shut, however, the duly gleaming creature began to twitch worriedly, flicking its tail against her hip.

Her mouth pulling into a pained grimace, the woman reached up and pushed the dragonlet off of her chest, causing him to flop to the leaf-littered forest floor with a surprised and indignant squawk.

With a small groan, Helen sat upright, one hand braced against the soaked ground, her right hand coming up to brace against her throbbing temple as the world around her turned with a sickening rapidity. A fresh rivulet of blood seeped out of the narrow gash cutting jaggedly across her temple, trickling around her eye and down her cheek before dripping onto the soil below.

Slowly, the world righted itself, coming to rest in its natural balance. Looking around herself, something seemed off to Helen, although she as of yet had been able to pinpoint the feeling. It was as if something was missing. The pounding headache and feeling of disorientation was doing anything but helping her, however.

Slowly becoming aware of the blood that was continuing to drip to the ground with muted plops, Magnus tentatively lifted her hand to her temple yet again, this time her fingers probing gently. A gasp of pain escaped her lips as her fingertips brushed against the ravaged skin, and her hand came away slick with blood.

She had to stop the bleeding. Where were her bags?

The missing puzzle pieces fell into place.

_Lightning lanced across the sky, thunder echoing in reply a few seconds later. Below her, the buckskin twitched nervously, whickering in fear as she pranced sideways. Keeping a firm grip on the reins, Magnus attempted to convey peace and confidence to her mount._

_Urging the mare onward, Helen fixed her gaze farther up the slope, where the dark opening of a cave was just barely visible. They only had to make it there, and the three of them would be able to wait out the sudden storm. But Magnus worried that she wouldn't be able to keep the buckskin under control for even that minimal amount of time required. _

_Another clap of thunder reverberated through the rain filled air, and Helen had to lean forward to force the mare's front hooves back to the ground. Only seconds later, however, a third lightning bolt pierced the midmorning with an earsplitting shriek, striking a towering pine only a few dozen yards up the slope. _

_Screaming with terror, the mare rose onto her hind legs, dancing backwards and away from the searing heat and flying shrapnel. Suddenly, the loosened earth beneath her feet gave way, sliding down the slight incline, carrying the mare with it. She toppled backwards, Helen struggling to disentangle herself from the saddle as gravity carried her mount down towards the earth. _

_The next few seconds were indistinguishable from each other, as the world lost all sense of direction and balance. Something heavy was pressing down on her, then the next instant it was gone, and she was rolling free. She could remember coming to a sliding halt a few feet farther down the slope, her head slamming into a downed tree._

_Then all there was was blackness, the sound of her mount's hoof beats receding into the darkness of unconsciousness._

Humming with anxiety, the dragonlet lifted its head and braced its front paws against Helen's chest as he nipped at her nose, worried at the unfocused look in her eyes. Blinking, Magnus returned to the present, looking down into the large, shining orbs of the dragonlet's eyes.

Since she had left Elko two weeks ago, she and the young dragon had formed a strange, yet firm bond. In her, the young dragon found a provider, someone who found him nourishment and kindness as they journeyed farther into the wilderness. And in him, Magnus found a friend; a companion in the empty world she had found herself in. As the hours stretched monotonously by, the dragonlet would sit on the saddle before her and would chirp and whistle, speaking to her in his own strange way. At night, he would curl up beside her, offering her strength and stolidity that helped to drive away the nightmares that even then continued to haunt her.

Even so, however, Helen could tell that the young creature yearned to once again be with his own kind, and Magnus also knew that this would be the best thing for him. And so the journey into the wilderness continued.

Once again, the dragonlet nipped at her nose, his sharp teeth pricking the delicate skin, breaking her out of her musings a second time.

"I'm sorry, Little One," Magnus murmured. "I didn't mean to worry you." Her voice was quiet and husky, her pain apparent. Her entire body felt as if it had been pummeled. Which, she figured upon further reflection, it pretty much had. She could vaguely remember rolling overtop at least two rocks and fallen tree branches before coming to a sudden standstill.

Still humming, the dragonlet hopped off her lap and curled up beside her leg, one eye still watching her closely.

Feeling as if her body was filled with lead, Helen set about making a bandage for the gash on her head. She tore a strip of cloth from the hem of her shirt, gritting her teeth at the loud, ripping sound that the fabric made as it was rent in two. After folding it, she gingerly pressed it to the sluggishly bleeding gash, wincing as it pulled at the wound.

Thoughts of infection flashed through her mind, but she quelled them as quickly as she could. She could only do so much with the supplies she still had. She wished fervently that the mare had not elected to flee, or at least had returned after the storm had eased up. But all she could do, she realized, was wish. For, judging by the failing light, Helen could guess that it had been almost a full day since her horse had fled, and if she was to return, she would have done so already.

Feeling as if all the energy had been sapped from her being, Helen couldn't help but fall slowly backwards until she was, once again, lying on the rain soaked ground, clutching the makeshift bandage to the cut in her scalp. She fought to keep her eyes open, fearing that, if she succumbed to her exhaustion, she would fail to awaken.

It was a losing battle. A few minutes lapsed by while she continued to stay awake and alert. But, finally, her fatigue won out, pulling her down into the dark's warm embrace.

**M-_-W-_-K-_-H**

Magnus jerked awake, her eyes snapping open and all her senses going on full alert. She sat upright, immediately regretting her sudden movement as her head gave an exceptionally painful throb.

All around her was silent, the only sound other than her own harsh breathing that of the dragonlet moving restlessly in his sleep. And yet, she knew something had to have startled her for her to have awoken so suddenly and completely.

A scream rent the air, one filled with the lust of the hunt and aggression. She knew it was no human that made a sound such as that, but that only served to send her staggering to her feet, thoughts of predators having no qualms about attacking an injured woman chasing themselves around in her lethargic mind. Helen looked around, attempting to pinpoint the direction from whence it had come.

At her feet, she could feel the dragonlet stir, stretching as he too came awake. Looking up at her questioningly, the young creature sat by her feet, huffing in slight agitation at being woken for no apparent reason.

Magnus was in the process of opening her mouth to explain, when the dragon tensed, snapping his head around to face downhill. His body went completely rigid as he honed in on something Helen could neither see nor sense.

Another animalistic shriek split the air, although this was one of agony and fear. All pain temporarily forgotten, Helen sprang forward, locking in on the sound. Something was in pain, and needed help. And wasn't that what she lived her life for? The feeling of something leaping onto her back and clambering to rest on her shoulder caused Helen to slow for a second as she looked down, only to see the dragon perched on her shoulder. Turning forward again, Magnus resumed her previous pace.

She ran downhill at an angle, dodging tree trunks with alarmingly narrow room for error. More than once, she stumbled on an unseen piece of fallen branch or imbedded stone, only just managing to retain her balance.

Each time she faltered, the sky above her tilted downward, as if it was reaching to pluck her up and throw her violently to another world. Then, as the run dragged out, black spots began to dance on the edges of her vision, her stomach rolling unhappily.

Finally, she came to a halt, gripping onto the trunk of a deciduous tree for balance. Through the trees, she could glimpse a meadow, wildflowers dotting the rippling green grass. With hardly even a second's lapse, the dragonlet on her shoulder leapt down, using the trunk to propel himself farther.

Two other figures moved through the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, one a midnight black horse, and the other tawny and feline. The first burst into the clearing, coming to a stumbling halt as it nearly fell, one of its long legs crumpling, a dark liquid dripping off of the hoof. It attempted to continue its flight, but it merely staggered, falling to its knees.

With a snarl similar in tone to the first scream Helen had heard, the feline leapt, claws flashing in the weak sunlight as it fell on the downed horse.

Magnus pushed herself forward, fighting the nausea and pain that threatened to push her to her knees. Ruthlessly shoving the pain into an unused corner of her mind, Helen relentlessly pushed her body onward, her only hope to scare the large cat away.

The sound of something small and compact slamming into and tearing flesh filled Magnus with a sick feeling, and she feared what she would find when she exited the trees.

The filtering sunlight danced across her face as she stepped out of the trees and examined the scene before her.

The injured horse was staggering to its feet, its head turned away from her, whickering in pain as it clumsily managed to get its legs underneath it. As it finally regained its feet, it looked sideways, searching for the beast that had been hunting it. Behind the mare, a surprising sight was to be seen.

The tawny feline was clawing at its belly, attempting to dislocate the ruby red dragon that was savagely clawing at the tender skin, tearing long, bloody gouges. Finally, the large cat managed to gain purchase, and heaved, throwing the dragonlet flying through the air. He hit a tree with a sickening crack, falling to the ground in a motionless heap.

The feline flipped onto its feet, bunching to pounce on the fallen dragon, the fur along its spine ruffled. Helen heard the creature snarl, and then it leapt. She didn't even have time to think about her actions before her body was following through; she knelt, her fingers finding a stone lying on top of the soil. She wrenched it free of the grass, throwing it with all her might at the leaping creature, aiming only to distract it long enough to give the dragonlet a chance.

The flying missile struck the attacking creature on the shoulder, knocking it out of the air. It slowly picked itself up, shaking its head as it gained its feet, then turned to face the woman with a vengeful look gleaming in its eyes. Helen started, her eyes going wide with shock as she, for the first time, got a good look at the creature.

It was broad shouldered, its body long and muscular. Its pelt was a deep golden color, the fur shaggy yet gleaming healthily in the sunlight. At first glance, it looked to be a large cougar, but, upon closer inspection it was most definitely _not_ a mountain lion. Its eyes were vivid violet with no pupil whatsoever, hate glittering in the depths like a wildfire. There was a short, ivory spike that protruded from its muzzle, and it had two rows of razor sharp teeth that it shut with a _snick_ as it growled at the human.

Suddenly, it stiffened, scenting the air as it inspected the tall woman. Its eyes narrowed and its tail flicked back and forth as it stepped forward, lowering its body even closer to the ground.

"You are no mere human." Its voice was low and gravelly, the voice issuing from deep in its throat, its mouth moving in a grotesque manner as it spoke.

A sudden chill raced up Magnus's spine as she began to realize just what she had gotten herself into.

"No," she replied carefully, eyeing the Abnormal warily. She could see the corners of its mouth twitch, its lips pulling away to reveal its gleaming fangs, a savage gleam sparking in its violet eyes. She opened her mouth to speak again, to attempt to pacify the Abnormal, but her action futile.

The beast leapt, claws sliding out of their sheaths as the beast went airborne. "And for that alone, you must DIE!" the Abnormal screeched at her, slamming into her and sending her flying. She landed on the ground, skidding as the creature landed heavily on top of her, forcing all of the air from her lungs.

It reared, its claws flashing in the sunlight, and Helen realized she had but a few seconds more to live. She glared up at the beast defiantly, determined not to go without a fight, striking it with all the strength she could muster. Her blow did not even phase the large creature, only serving to make it angrier.

The Abnormal howled in anger, and brought its teeth slicing down towards her unprotected throat.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary does not belong to me. I am borrowing the ideas that were thought up first by others. I have made no money by writing this, merely the satisfaction of beating people up without being suspended from school.

**A/N:** yeah, yeah...I get it. I should just have a permanent apology attached to this story. So ya know what? I'm gonna get this over with as quick as possible. I'M SORRY! Better? Maybe just a little? But yeah, I really am sorry for taking so long to update guys (again. Sheesh...). School started almost a month ago for me, and it's bit me pretty hard. I honestly have been working on this chapter for a while, but considering that I've had about a total of 5-10 minutes to work on it at a time (until today), it was coming painfully slow. But you honestly probably don't wanna hear me make excuses. So I'll just wrap this apology up with this: read, review, enjoy, but please don't throw acid or flames my way for taking so long. I'm not even going to make a conjecture concerning when the next chapter will be up.

Chapter 4

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Magnus held her breath as she gazed upward at the cloud encased sky, waiting for the blinding flash of agony that would herald her death. Instead, she felt a sickening thud, and a split second later, she felt the sensation of something tearing across her stomach, and then the weight left her chest. Gasping in pain and shock, Helen rolled over, breathing deeply as her arms shoved her body upright. Vaguely she could feel lines of fire burning across her abdomen, could smell the sickly sweet yet tantalizing scent of fresh blood, but she ignored it, staggering unsteadily to her feet.

A snarl directed her attention to the edge of the clearing. The midnight black horse was rearing, its hooves suspended midair as it screamed its defiance at the beast. The cat Abnormal was flipped over onto its side from where it had been thrown, its tail thrashing in the grass as it attempted to right itself.

The horse's hooves came crashing down toward the ground, the animal angling its head so that the flat of its forehead was angled toward the fallen creature. And in that instant, accompanied by a flickering of light as a sun beam broke through the clouds briefly, Helen saw something that stopped her dead in her tracks, her gaze fastened on the horse.

A single, spiraling, ivory horn was growing gracefully directly between the unicorn's golden eyes, the tip coming to a needle fine point. It was approximately a foot in length, and Helen could only wonder how she hadn't seen it previously.

Her world suddenly snapped back to reality as the horse screamed in agony, falling to its side as the mountain cat flipped itself upward, raking its claws down the mare's stomach as it flew upwards. The Abnormal flipped midair, coming down to land on the fallen unicorn, spitting in rage.

Once again, Helen acted without thinking, throwing herself forward without a second's hesitation. Her hand reached to her hip where a simple knife was sheathed. She yanked the blade from its casing, throwing herself into the air toward the tawny cat, ignoring the crimson droplets of blood that fell to the ground from her own body with silent plops as she hurtled forward.

A bone-jarring impact rattled her teeth as she, in turn, slammed shoulder first into the creature. Growling in frustration, the creature was thrown off of the mare and, once again, sent sprawling to the ground. Helen landed on her side, rolling as she slammed into the earth. She grunted as she rolled, pain lancing through both her head and her stomach.

Helen leapt to her feet, the knife held out in front of her. The cat was only just picking itself up, an aggravated gleam in its eyes. It bared its fangs as its tail lashed the air, a deep, penetrating growl emanating from deep in its throat.

It began to pace forward, its body low to the ground as it slunk toward Helen. She suddenly moved forward, the blade flashing as it arced down and toward the Abnormal's forehead. It attempted to lunge sideways and away from the descending knife, but it was just a few seconds slow.

A long gash was sliced open along the Abnormal's ear, effectively splitting the tender skin in half. It screamed in pain as it whirled, snapping at Helen's legs. She danced backwards, only just managing to evade the razor sharp fangs. It lunged forward again, just as Helen raised the knife. It rammed its chest into the four inch blade before jerking away, tearing the handle from Magnus's hands.

Squalling, a ruby red blur suddenly landed on the Abnormal's back, wings spread wide for balance as the dragon's serpentine head struck downwards, his sharp teeth burying through the Abnormal's fur to nip at the tender skin beneath.

Howling, the Abnormal attempted to roll over and crush the dragonlet beneath its bulk, but Helen launched herself forward, grabbing the beast around the neck. It staggered, its feet sliding out from underneath it as it crashed downward. The dragon leapt off of the beast's back, and dove straight for its throat.

Blood fountained into the air as the dragonlet's fangs struck the Abnormal's exposed neck. It howled thrashing and breaking free of Helen's grasp. She let it go as it turned tail and fled into the safety of the trees.

The dragon began to give chase, but Magnus stepped in front of him.

"Enough, Little One. It has had enough. It won't bother us again." The dragonlet flared its wings in triumph, rearing on its hind legs as his wings beat the air into a miniature gale, crowing his victory to the world. Shaking her head, Helen turned away from the small creature, one hand going to her stomach.

She gasped as her fingers brushed against riven skin, four long, diagonal slash marks etched into her fair skin. Although they were not particularly deep, they were very long and were bleeding profusely. Blood coated the front of her shirt and drenched her pants in a sadistic paint. She quickly yanked off her jacket, folding it into a temporary bandage to help stem the bleeding.

A low, pained whicker brought Helen's attention from her own injuries to the fallen unicorn. The mare lay on her side, fighting to take in breath as long, jagged wounds bled sluggishly onto the vivid green grass. Stumbling slightly, Helen forced her legs forward as she slowly approached the injured animal.

As she neared, the mare attempted to regain her feet, getting as far as rolling back onto her stomach. She attempted to push herself up off of the ground, but she fell back again, her right foreleg giving out.

"Easy," Magnus murmured as she dropped to her knees beside the fallen mare. With soft, calming caresses, Helen stroked the mare's neck, hoping to allay some of the unicorn's fear and distract her from the pain. The mare whickered uneasily and moved restlessly. "Easy," Helen said again.

Pushing the mare gently, Helen urged her over onto her midnight black side. Still murmuring soothing words and using calming movements, Magnus stretched out the long, black leg drenched with thickening crimson blood, a soft moan groaning out of the mare's throat.

Carefully inspecting the jagged punctures where the cat Abnormal's teeth had punctured the delicate skin, Helen bit her lip. The holes were deep and continuing to ooze blood as well as a greenish liquid, which indicated some sort of venom as well. Sighing with the enormity of her task, Helen continued inspecting the unicorn, making her way up to the long gouges in the mare's tender underbelly.

As soon as her gently probing fingers brushed against the fine layer of fur on the unicorn's belly, the mare snorted in pain and Helen snatched back her fingers. Magnus's brows creased in concentration as she battled the pounding headache that was, once again, making its presence known. In the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the fight, the throbbing in her head had almost completely vanished. Now, however, it had returned with a vengeance, and Helen was struggling to even form a fully coherent thought.

Finally, Helen stood, rubbing her bloody fingers together.

"Can you get up?" she asked the unicorn, walking over so she could kneel by the mare's side, ignoring the painful searing of her stomach as the cloth rasped over the slashes. "We need to get those wounds of yours cleaned up before we can do anything else," Helen explained. She felt a little foolish for speaking to a horse the way she would a human, but it just felt…right somehow.

The unicorn whickered, then surged to her knees. Helen stood, bracing her hands against the mare's shoulder, helping her to stay steady as the unicorn pushed upward again, this time making it fully onto her legs. The blood that had been slowly congealing on her leg began to tear free and bleed more thickly, but Helen disregarded it, knowing that naught could be done at the moment.

"There is a stream nearby, if memory serves," Magnus told the mare, who merely bobbed her head and flicked her tail. Stumbling on every hidden stone or small hillock of earth, Magnus lead the way, one hand resting on the unicorn's stolid shoulder. The dragonlet bounded by her side, his red scales gleaming brilliantly in the intermittent patches of sunlight that filtered through the foliage.

The sound of trickling water cascaded through the mountain air, the rippling brook that sluiced between the trees filling the air with the scent of water. The sparkling surface came into view a few moments later, and Helen had to fight to keep herself from merely dropping to the muddy bank beside the whispering brook and lying down.

Instead, Magnus got to her knees beside the flowing waters and dipped her fingers into the cold waves, leaving the knife in the grass beside a stone. The water was frigid and biting, the melted snow that ran through the stream filling it with a coldness of the high mountains. Gritting her teeth, Helen tore a strip of cloth from the hem of her shirt and dipped it into the running water.

When she raised herself back into a sitting position, gasping for air as the long gashes burned, the mare lowered herself to the ground once again, lying on her side. Helen raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by the amount of trust shown to her by the magnificent creature.

"This will hurt," Magnus warned, then set about cleaning the wound on the mare's foreleg.

Once the greenish fluid had been rubbed out of the oozing wounds and the flecks of dirt and grass wiped free, Helen tore a second, longer strip of cloth from her shirt. It was a far cry from a preferred bandage, but it would have to do. With quick, efficient movements, Magnus wrapped the long piece of cloth around the mare's foreleg, tightening it to restrict the blood flowing freely from the punctures.

After repeating the cleaning process for the long gashes in the unicorn's belly, Helen sat back, releasing a bone deep sigh.

"There is not much else I can do for you," Helen told the unicorn sadly. "If I had the proper equipment, I could seal the wounds. But I don't, and I don't know what else to do without risking causing internal damage. As it is, none of your internal organs have been injured, but if I try to mess with it too much, I run the risk."

The mare lifted her head, turning over onto her stomach as she did. Helen grimaced at the thought of debris that must be working its way into the freshly cleaned gouges. She immediately relaxed as a midnight black chin rested on her lap, the spiraling horn gleaming a few inches from her throat. Golden eyes watched her solemnly, gratitude showing through, gleaming in the dusky light.

"You're welcome," Helen whispered into the silence, even the young dragonlet silent as he gazed at his reflection in the rippling waters.

A whistling sound disrupted the moment, and the mare's head shot upright, her horn passing a few inches from Magnus's face. The surprised woman leaned backwards, her mind attempting to comprehend what her eyes were seeing.

Two ropes had settled around the mare's neck, the twines pulling taught. Horses whinnied, rough voices shouting in excitement.

Helen staggered to her feet, one hand automatically bracing against her injured stomach, blood flaking between her fingers. The unicorn reared, screaming in fear and betrayal as she fought the restraining cords that were entangling in her mane. Her hooves slammed into the ground and her gaze met Magnus's for just an instant.

_Betrayer!_ they screamed, the hurt, the pain of Helen's supposed treachery gleaming raw and oozing in the mare's golden eyes. She suddenly broke the contact, leaping up and away, contorting and crying shrilly as she pulled at the ropes. Blood dripped from her chest and stomach as the wounds ripped open again, dropping crimson rain onto the ground.

She was pulled crashing to the ground. All Helen could do was stand rooted to the ground, watching as the horrific scene unfolded before her. She felt trapped in molasses, unable to move, to think, the pounding in her head intensifying as her heart rushed.

She felt herself stagger forward, and then the voices of the men on their horses snapped into her conscious mind.

"Spread out! We're looking for a dragon!"

With a shrieking squall, a ruby red blur flew over Magnus's shoulder, wings flared in fiery fury.

"No!" Helen screamed, lunging forward to grab a hold of the dragon. Raucous whoops accompanied the sound of a flying net as it settled over the small creature. The ground shook as two horses were urged forward and sent careening toward the helpless creature thrashing on the ground.

"Get away from it, woman!" one of the men yelled harshly at her. She ignored the command, her vision narrowing and focusing solely on the thrashing, squalling bundle trapped to the ground.

Reaching, snatching. She felt her arms wrap around the dragonlet, could hear her own voice attempting to quiet him, to reassure him. She could feel her feet slapping the grassy ground, could see, out of the corners of her eyes, the trees flashing by as she sprinted back the way she had come.

All the pain had been washed away by a surging rush of fear and adrenaline, leaving only a mind whirling and sprinting with a million thoughts. The sound, the very _feel_ of pursuit crashed behind her, and Helen realized that she had very little time.

Ripping at the mesh of the net, Helen tore at the bindings that imprisoned the dragonlet. As if through a veil, she could feel the skin on her fingers slice open and bleed, but it didn't matter. With a final, vicious snarl, Magnus shredded the net. Her pursuers were almost upon her.

Trees flashed past her, the browns and greens blurring together as she wove and dodged through the undergrowth, leaping over the ferns and fallen debris that littered the forest floor. Breathing raggedly, Helen looked down at her precious bundle.

"Hide," she whispered, and opened the net, flinging her dragonlet into the air. He tucked in his wings, diving toward the ground and pulling up in a hollowed out space between the roots of a tree. Magnus rewrapped the mesh into a ball, clutching it to her chest, and continued her headlong dash.

She didn't make it far. She felt a rope suddenly tighten around her shoulders. She was lifted off of her feet and sent crashing to the forest ground, the breath being forced from her lungs with a vicious stab. Struggling, Magnus made it to her knees, pushing her body upright, her eyes locked on the sky above her.

Her escape was cut off as three horses suddenly swept around her, circling her kneeling figure in a constant, moving circle.

"Give the dragon to us," one of the men barked, his face shadowed by a Stetson, his voice callous and harsh. "Now, and we won't hurt you."

Grinning with a feral humor, Helen lifted her arms, allowing the shredded net to fall to the ground, the torn folds fluttering to the ground.

She was jerked off of her knees and, once again, sent to the forest floor.

"Where is it?" someone yelled at her. "Tell us!" the voice screamed.

Curling into a ball, all Helen could do was laugh to herself at their panicked fury.

"You'll never find him," she told them. "I'll never tell you." Boots met the ground as one of the riders dismounted and stalked toward the prone figure of the woman.

"Get up," he growled. When she made no move to comply, he kicked her viciously, his boot connecting solidly with her hip. "I said, get _up_," he spat, kicking her again. He reached down, gripping Helen's shoulder and pulling her savagely upright. Forcing her chin upward, he locked eyes with her.

Fifty years had taught Helen how to keep a straight face, one that showed no hint or emotion whatsoever, no matter what. A fist slammed into her cheek and stars popped in her line of vision as the shock of the blow sent her reeling to one side. If the man had not been holding her, she would have been knocked flat on her side once again.

"She's coming with us," the man growled, then looped a coarse material around Helen's hands, binding them tightly together. Yanking the rope around her shoulders, he dragged the woman to his horse's side, and lifted her hands. After mounting, he twined the rope around his left hand and wrist. "You tell us where the little monster is, I'll get you up on the horse where you can ride. Until then, I hope you can run."

Kneeing the horse, the trio set off into a trot back the way they had come.

Magnus was jerked forward, her feet automatically moving to keep her body upright. She knew that, if she fell, she would not be able to get up once again. The horse's hooves flashed less than a foot in front, and behind her. All she could do was keep her feet beneath her, and pray that the dragonlet would not show himself.

A few agonizing moments passed, and then the four had regrouped with the others at the stream. Through a haze, Helen looked up, finding the black coat of the unicorn almost immediately. The proud mare was upright once again, four ropes now settled securely about her majestic neck.

Magnus's throat constricted as she stumbled, only just managing to retain her balance before she crashed to the ground.

"We've got ourselves another captive," the man next to Magnus laughed gruffly, relaxing slightly. "She let the little bugger go, and she's the only one who knows where it is."

"At least we have this animal to compensate 'till we can get her to talk," one of the men holding the unicorn down said.

Helen saw her chance. She lunged away from her captor, the rope tearing free of his grip. Twisting her body around, Magnus snagged the trailing end so it wouldn't be caught easily, and continued toward the gurgling brook. A gleam caught her attention as shouts and exclamations tore through the air behind her.

Knowing that she only had seconds, Helen slid to a stop, leaning down to grip the handle of her knife, which she had left lying on the bank. With a sudden surge of energy, Magnus lunged forward, hurtling toward the captive mare.

Expecting the woman to make a bid for freedom, the men were not expecting her to charge almost directly toward them. She had already sawn through one of the ropes by the time they were able to comprehend just what she was doing.

"Stop her!" her former captive screamed, practically falling off of his mount as he struggled to grab her.

The second rope snapped under Magnus's frantic cutting. She attacked the last two ropes in conjunction, tearing at the fibers that were wrapped together inseparably. She felt first one strand split, then another. With one final, savage rip, the ropes fell away, freeing the unicorn. The mare wheeled, preparing to take flight. She hesitated for a second, looking at Helen.

A crack split the air, and Helen fell, a sharp cry echoing from her mouth. The mare turned and leapt forward, bounding across the stream in a single leap. With one final glance behind her, the proud creature disappeared into the forest, a single whinny piercing the air.

Blood trickled out of the bullet wound in Helen's shoulder, the metal capsule buried against her shoulder blade. She groaned as she rolled over, the knife still clutched in her shaking hands.

The blade was ripped from her grasp, and she was once again hauled to her feet. She could vaguely tell that someone was yelling – no, screaming – at her, but her mind would not focus on them. She feebly attempted to twist out of the hands holding her upright. She was shoved to the ground, and kicked in the stomach.

Pain flared through her entire body, the walls and barriers that she had erected around her mind splintering, allowing all the agony that she had been holding back into her mind and body. A second crushing kick made contact with her ravaged abdomen. Her vision flashed red. And then everything went black.

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I'm not even going to make a conjecture concerning when the next chapter will be up. If it's taking me forever, don't hesitate to hound me or complain or something. Just let me know that you're getting antsy, and I'll try to pick up the pace all that I can. Thank you so much for sticking with me, even though I feel I've been a terrible author for you guys. Well, that's enough of that. I hope you review on your way out :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary nor any of the ideas associated with Sanctuary are mine. They belong to any and all others who actually do own it.

**A/N:** Wowz...once again, long time in updating. *Sigh* Not even gonna say it this time...On a much happier note, I feel way too excited about this (still) to pass up the opportunity to share this with all of you (since you will be the few who understand my happiness over this)! I got to meet (well, kinda) Amanda Tapping, Chris Heyerdahl, and Robin Dunne over Labor Day weekend at Dragon*Con (yes, that's part of the reason this is so long in coming). It was soooo AWESOME! They're hilarious and really amazing and sweet (Robin saying he liked me wouldn't have anything to do with that, of course). ...ANYWAY!

Enough about that...and on to this chapter...I realize it's probably not my best work (I'm more than a little sick as I write this. Which is the reason I was even able to update this week). I'm afraid it seems a little rushed, but I also kinda wanted to give the feeling that everything was happening really quickly to Helen as well - like she couldn't quite keep up with it all because things were just progressing and happening so fast. So that's why it's written that way. If anyone has any ideas or issues with it, please (I beseech you), let me know so I can work on it! Read, Review, and (of course) ENJOY!

Oh yes, and a quick shout-out/thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I know I didn't get around to thanking each of you personally (one of the things that got lost in my hectic life to my dismay), so I just wanted to take the time now to thank you all so very much! Also, a huge hug and smile to SJ officially antsy who has been amazing and very encouraging. Your words mean a lot, and are so amazing! To answer your question, no I haven't posted on any other sites. I promise you, I WILL finish this! The end is in sigh! (mine, anyway (; )

Torture and violence warnings on this chapter. Nothing too graphic (me being sick while writing this kinda put a damper on that...), but the warnings are there mostly for the ideas and concepts expressed in this chapter.

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Chapter 5

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For the second time in too short of a space of time, Helen awoke to the steady drip of water on her face. The blackness that was pinioning her slowly lifted, pulling away to reveal a sodden, gray sky and a muddy earth. Rain cascaded from the water-logged heavens, water running down her face and dripping from her hair in rivulets.

She was cold and numb, and in as much pain as she could ever remember being in. Her stomach burned, the water doing little to alleviate the stinging pain that radiated from the deep gashes. Her head pounded, and her ribs were increasingly sore, each breath an ever increasing labor. Her shoulder ached dully, small sparks of agony fizzling through her if she twisted the wrong way.

Her outer extremities were so completely numb that it took her a few minutes to realize that her hands were tied behind her back, her wrists crossed at an awkward angle and bound to a rough wooden post a few feet above the ground. Vaguely, she could feel the ropes biting into her flesh as she jerked at the bonds, attempting to pull her wrists from between the soaked twine, but she felt no pain. Finally, the warmth of blood trickling down her hands and off of her fingers stilled her movements.

As Helen sagged against the post, her knees folded beneath her in an awkward kneel, she took a mental inventory. Her abdomen burned and stung all at once, the ragged gashes pulling every time she took a breath. Her head pounded with each heartbeat, and the bullet wound in her shoulder stabbed in fitful flashes. Her coat was gone, the only barrier between her and lovely Mother Nature her thin blouse.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them into slits, taking stock of her surroundings. The rain pelted through the air, sending small globules of mud flying into the air at the harsh impacts. Through the wavering air, the hulking shadow of a cabin sat against the trees, the single window emanating the faint, flickering gleam of firelight. To Magnus, it reminded her of a Cyclopes crouching in the narrow avenue of her escape. A fence surrounded the courtyard that she found herself in, meeting with the walls of the cabin to form a complete enclosure.

With a slight groan, Helen leaned her head against the rough wood of the post behind her, her hair clinging to her forehead and neck with soggy fingers. The cold water continued to pepper her face as she looked heavenward, her eyes closed. Slowly, the darkness that had been hanging just around her mind began to encroach once again, and she eventually lapsed back into unconsciousness.

**M-_-W-_-K-_-H**

A harsh voice and a vicious, stinging slap brought Helen back to consciousness, yanking her back to the real world with a harsh thud. The resounding tone brought painful, unpleasant memories to the forefront of Helen's mind. _Rope pulling taught around her wrists. The sharp crack of a gun discharging. She dull, biting pain of a vicious kick to her searing stomach._

"Look at me, bitch," the voice yelled again, this time the words slightly more understandable, pulling the woman back into reality. Blinking in the sudden wash of bright, morning sunlight Magnus forced her eyes open, ducking her head as the light stabbed merciless shards of brilliance into her sensitive pupils. She bit her lip, stifling a small groan that threatened to escape from between her locked jaws.

She was sore all over, an aching exhaustion filling her already leaden limbs. The world seemed to tilt around her haphazardly as she shook her head, attempting to clear it of the cobwebs of unconsciousness.

Gathering all of her thoughts and emotions, Helen crammed them into a tiny ball before forcing them into the deepest, most protected corner of her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath, then lifted her head.

"What do you want?" Magnus asked, finally finding her voice.

"Just to ask you a few questions," came the calm, almost soothing voice, a far cry from the tone of voice used just a few seconds before. Helen barely managing to suppress the snort of derision that fought valiantly to sally forth.

"And if I won't answer you?" Helen asked, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

"You will," the man said, this time his tone low and icy cold. A shadow knelt in front of her, blocking out the sunlight that continued to beat down on her unprotected body. A firm, almost painful grip latched onto her chin, and forced Helen's face upward until her eyes met the man's. His eyes were just as cold as his voice, the cold blue glittering from underneath the shadow of his Stetson. His jaw was square and strong, and a cruel grin curled the edges of his lips, turning them upward in a feral sneer.

Magnus held his piercing, calculating gaze unwaveringly, unblinkingly. The silent battle of wills stretched endlessly onward, each second ticking away like an eternity. Then, Helen made her move. She lifted her chin, asserting pressure on his tight grip, setting her jaw. A small smile suddenly flickered along her features, her eyes flashing. A sudden chill overcame the man, the irrational notion that she could see down into his very soul flitting through his mind.

With a snarl, the man lowered his eyes, pulling Magnus's head to the side sharply as he released her chin. Her head slammed into the coarse wood of the wooden pole tethering her to the ground, stars popping in her vision as her ear collided with the uncomfortably hard surface.

She knew she would regret her small victory later, and yet she couldn't find it in herself to feel remorse for her choice. Instead, a small bubble of _something_ blossomed in her mind. Even if for a split second, the man had been afraid of her. And that was something that she knew she could use to her advantage.

"Who are you?" the cold voice asked, the sound of the man's booted feet treading around her. Helen refused to follow his pacing form, instead using the opportunity to get a good look at the clearing in the daylight. It looked just as it had the night before, although slightly less wet. The door to the cabin stood open, and Magnus could detect movement inside. As her gaze roved around the fence, she caught a glimpse of two other figures leaning against the wooden slats, observing the goings on.

"I asked you a question," the man growled, coming back to stand in front of Helen.

Magnus retained her silence, allowing a small, tightlipped smile to grace her features. Once again, she saw stars pop as, once again, her ear collided with the wooden post.

"I'm waiting for an answer," the man growled.

"Then you're going to be waiting for a very long time," Helen said lightly, hoping that her answer and tone of voice would grate on the man's arrogance as she lifted her eyes to meet the man's gaze once again.

"Where is the creature?" the man asked, changing tact abruptly, hoping to throw her off her guard.

"I don't know," Helen replied airily. "Although you'll hardly believe me," she added.

A hand gesture from the man and tug from behind her was all the warning she had. The next instant, pain exploded in her shoulders, wrists, and hands as the ropes holding her upright were released and her arms dropped to her sides. Surprised and completely unprepared, Helen fell forward, the support holding her up vanishing. She attempted to break her fall with her arms, but they buckled, the pain of blood suddenly rushing back into numbed nerves searing.

Rough hands jerked Helen to her feet, spinning her around so she could look at her interrogator.

"You're right; I don't believe you," he said, a foreboding menace in his tone. Before she could register what was happening, Magnus found herself being dragged across the muddy ground, her arms shrieking and her shoulder crying out painfully as the metal of the bullet grated against bone.

She was shoved and sent stumbling, her numb legs unable to support her weight either, sending her crashing into the wooden posts of the fence. A boot connected with her hip, flipping her onto her back and eliciting a surprised yelp from her. Yet again she was grabbed and hauled to her feet, shoved against the fence, the uneven wood biting into her skin even through her blouse. One hand was pulled around the post and fastened to the nearest railing, the ropes securing her before she could begin to think of an escape.

"I will ask you again, _where is the monster_?"

After a few seconds of silence, Helen replied, her voice cold as she allowed the anger that was harbored in her heart to show through. "_He_ is not the monster."

Complete and total silence stretched across the clearing. Finally, the man spoke, his voice sad and yet almost…pleased?

"You should not have said that," he told Magnus coldly, the sound of something uncoiling from his belt turning Helen's head.

The shriek of leather splicing the air gave her less than a second's notice. Her body jerked as the force of the whip's blow slammed into her back, the edges of the rawhide biting deep into her skin, shredding both her shirt and her body with hardly any resistance. She locked her jaws, swallowing the shrill cry before it could be born. The warmth of blood cascaded down her back, causing her to shiver at the stark contrast between the liquid and the cold breeze that tickled her skin.

"Between each lashing, I'll give you a chance to answer my question," the man informed her. "I'll count to thirty."

All too quickly, the whistle of the bullwhip cracked through the air again, another line of fire cutting across Helen's back. Her body jerked, her teeth clenched together painfully as she fought to keep from giving her tormentor satisfaction.

As the time passed, the lashes became more and more painful. Whether it was that her own barriers were weakening, or it was that the man was becoming angrier, Helen was unsure. All that she knew, however, was that with each blow, she lost a little more of her courage. As she lost more blood, the edges of her vision began to become more and more blurry, dark splotches beginning to swim across her view of the fence post. She fought back the desperate moans and whimpers that resounded through her mind, unsure if they were audible or not.

And then, her resolve snapped. As her body convulsed for the thirteenth time, she screamed. The short, shrill yell of pain echoed around the clearing, bouncing off of the sides of the cabin and disappearing into the ethers.

Through the haze of pain that filled her mind, threating to completely overwhelm her, Helen thought she heard a boy's voice.

"Stenton, that's enough."

"Don't talk to me in such a way, boy," the man – Stenton – snarled. Without warning, one final tongue of agony was sliced down Helen's back, her following cry louder and more drawn out than the time before.

Through her ragged breathing, Helen could hear the thump of boot steps retreating, disappearing into the world somewhere beyond her sphere of hearing.

Without warning, the bonds holding her to the fence were released, and she fell to her knees. She was grabbed on both sides by the same rough hands as before, then was dragged along the ground, her legs forming muddy furrows in the soggy ground.

Looking up, Helen saw the far side of the fence leering at her mockingly. Much closer stood the pole to which she had been bound the night before, and Helen assumed it was her current destination.

With a sudden surge of energy that she hadn't been sure she possessed, Magnus pulled her feet underneath her, lunging forward as soon as she had traction. Surprised, the two men holding her stumbled, the man on her left crashing to the ground with a thump. Whirling, Helen slammed a foot into the other man's side, shoving him away from her. He cried out as he fell sideways, barely managing to retain his feet.

Knowing that her window of opportunity would soon be gone, Helen leapt forward, locking away the pain that threatened to overwhelm her, sprinting for the fence. She hoped to get over it and disappear into the forest, hopefully managing to avoid any search parties sent out for her until she could make it back to where she had last seen the dragon.

It was her own body that betrayed her. As she reached the fence and reached for the top to hoist her damaged body over, her weakened legs gave out. She staggered, falling against the fence, barely managing to stay upright.

Someone pulled up beside her, grabbing her right shoulder. Helen pushed herself upright, attempting to shake off their restraining grip as she heaved herself upward, grappling with the wooden slats. For a second, elation filled her as she felt her body rise upward, but then a grunt of shock and a thump issued from a few feet to her right, and the next thing she knew, a vice-like grip had clamped down on her neck, pulling her backward ferociously.

She landed on her back. This time, she wasn't able to stifle the scream that tore from her lips as her ravaged skin was torn even more. Something hard made vicious contact with her stomach. As her body recoiled, she realized that, this time, she hardly felt any difference in the pain, her mind unable to cope with the ever increasing levels of agony. It was as if she slipped into a near comatose state at that point, barely aware of her surroundings. Vaguely, she was able to feel herself being dragged over the uneven ground of the stock yard, then pulled partially upright as her wrists were fastened to the post again.

Silence descended around her, the men departing and leaving her to her own thoughts and pain. Darkness descended on her, pulling her down irresistibly. Finally, she gave up the battle, allowing unconsciousness to take her.

As she finally went limp she thought she heard a worried chirp, and then she knew no more.


End file.
